


Daises On Your Nightstand

by Kritterrat



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Dragon Age: Inquisition Spoilers, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/M, Mage Inquisitor (Dragon Age), Multi, War
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-11
Updated: 2021-03-16
Packaged: 2021-03-18 00:27:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,941
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29974593
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kritterrat/pseuds/Kritterrat
Summary: “Herald.”“Amicia.” She corrected tiredly.“I am not the man I was in the order. And I ask that you leave it at that.” He ordered, his voice was just above a whisper but still speaking with the authority of a seasoned commander.She didn't want to leave it at that. She wanted to rip up the floorboards and crack the very foundations of which the Templar Order exists upon. At the same time, she realized she couldn't do so through the man before her.
Relationships: Cullen Rutherford/Female Trevelyan, Female Inquisitor/Cullen Rutherford, Leliana/Josephine Montilyet
Kudos: 7





	1. Andraste's Last Laugh

Amicia gazed down at the mark on her hand, Herald of Andraste, she thought to herself the implications too grand to comprehend, even if the title is just the wishful thinking of a hopeless people. She chuckled wryly to herself if her life is a joke this is most definitely the punch line. And it wasn’t a very good joke, because if she is the Herald of Andraste then they are certainly doomed to fail. 

She was a mage promised freedom only to once again be stuck to serve those who could not fathom such a concept. Better yet, she is their holy’s chosen one. A figurehead! A tool to recruit and assemble their crusade against the hole in the sky.

She grumbled, grabbing her staff and pack, disgusted. As though anyone would look up and away from the wars and their differences to come together and fight for their home. It was worth a shot. Especially since the Inquisition was the only safe place in Thedas left for her and her strange mark. 

Briskly she turned the corner and headed down the main steps towards the main gate the smell of the stables and the armory wafted into her nose. 

She was surprised to see Varric is the only one ready to set out to the Hinterlands. He did not seem the early rising sort. Their steeds ready and waiting for their party to arrive and stable hands are rushing about, tending to the horses before their long journey. 

She likes Varric, it’s strange but he is the only one she trusts out of the bunch, maybe it’s a fellow prisoner comradery type of thing, or just how he is the only one not keen on her becoming some tragic hero that Thedas desperately needs. 

“Ah, Lucky, you’re bright n’ early! Looking to get out of here while the Seeker is still sleeping?” His eyes twinkling with mirth. She brushed off the nickname, hoping he would drop it. 

“Only if you point her in the opposite direction when she gets here.” She chuckled, thinking of Cassandra raging up a hill to find her only to find Varric has spun her in the wrong direction. 

Varric chuckled good-naturedly, “If only, I had a death wish.”

“I thought we all did, running after whatever created that, in the sky.” She dramatically waved her hand presenting the Breach the way courtiers would present art to her father all those years ago.

Varric nodded, sobering as a patrol approached them. Amicia straightened putting her hands where the guards could see them. No need for trouble now.

Varric raised an eyebrow. It was unnecessary. She shrugged, “Old habits.” 

Varric nodded slowly. 

They wait together, another patrol goes by before she confesses, “I almost ran last night you know.” 

Varric’s eyes widen in surprise, concern written on his features. He opened his mouth only to close it as Cassandra, and Solas joined them in front of the gates.

“Ready?” Cassandra barked at them. They nodded and set off together.

* * *

She could hear a bear rummaging through the woods. They had set up camp just on the outer reaches of the Hinterlands but had already encountered several bears. Not wanting to chance to have Varric stave off one of the Hinterland’s grizzlies alone she headed out to where the dwarf stood to watch over their small campsite. 

“How are you holding up, Lucky?” He asked, still surveying the inky blackness between the trees. 

“There’s a bear.” She ignored the question standing beside him.

“There’s a couple of them, it is the Hinterlands.” Varric quipped. His face was barely illuminated by the dying flames, yet his eyes reflected the dying light and a sympathetic kindness. And those eyes? They spoke to the softer sides of Amicia like one would a sleeping child. They stood together silently, listening. The bear moved east lumbering away from their camp. The fire snapped behind them and as if a spell was broken Amicia spoke, for what felt like the first time in weeks.

“I don’t know if ‘Lucky’ is how I would describe myself, least not… in any serious sense.” 

“You’re alive. That’s more than most people can say'' Varric stated lightly, purposefully noncommittal to the fact, the way Cullen and Liliana did in war room meetings confirming the dead from the Conclave.

Some live, yet would rather trade places with those they have lost. It’s a truth that dances in and out of every conversation in Haven. 

Amicia’s stomach sank and sat in her feet like two heavy stones, the conclave. All of those lives… her father… and Rolin… poor Rolin. She wished she had at least been able to--. She stopped her thoughts there. No matter what, her regrets will not bring them back. Still, she felt sorrow occupying her body like a confused platoon,

“I do not feel lucky.” Varric looked up at her, and she mistook his furrowed brow for judgment rather than curiosity. “I-- I don’t mean I am ungrateful. But, I had plans before this. I had a life I was quite ready to live. For the first time, I even had a family. At least I think I did. Varric, being the only survivor at the conclave was not luck. It was intentional. Some bastard let me live and let my brothers and father die. And I have every intention to make them pay for it.” 

The admission left her feeling raw. Emotion had crawled into her voice and into her eyes, blurring the fire she had turned to face. The fire beside them roared back to life, burning only by her subconscious demand for it to feed off of her grief. 

Varric moved back from the suddenly raging flames, and closer to Amicia. He contemplated the flames before him piecing together his next words. 

The dwarf had an openness about him. Sure, she did not know the dwarf, or any dwarf for that matter, from the Maker’s left tit, but she knew she could trust him. Before he could speak, Amicia cursed, here she was pouring her soul to someone she barely knew, whose friends may have likely died in the conclave while she scorned surviving the ordeal.

“Maker's Breath… I apologize, in a moment of weakness, I left my emotions to get the best of me. I didn't mean to--” Varric mercifully cut her off. 

“You know, Lucky, you don’t have to be brave for me. I’ve known enough heroes to know half of everything a hero has is just bravado and luck. And for what it’s worth... I don’t blame you for the Conclave. We will make whoever did this pay. ” 

“I-- Thank you Varric.” Relief poured through her, releasing a tension she wasn’t fully aware of till now. She couldn’t find the words to describe her emotions that toiled under the surface of her skin and making the fire beside them hotter, even though it was dying down to its original size. 

Cassandra stiffly walked towards them, ready to take her turn for watch. Amicia went back to her tent. Uninterested in the squabble that would ultimately happen between Varric and the Seeker. Besides, Cassandra could take a bear by herself any day. (As Amicia had found out the day before.) 

Tomorrow they would seek out Mother Giselle and whatever else the Hinterlands had to offer. 


	2. Bears, Bees, and Battle Scars

Her body ached as she flopped down onto her bedroll, exhausted from fighting mages and templars on the East Road. If they’re lucky they are another day of fighting away from Horsemaster Dennet. Curse him for living so far, she thought grumbling to herself and her empty stomach. Mother Giselle had agreed to help them and had set off, and Amicia wished she had gone with her and Scout Harding back to Haven.

Refugees, dead and alive littered the crossroads when they came down from the scout’s camp. They had spent a good many days hunting game and searching for supplies. Amicia knew there were always winners and losers in war, but the people who were losing the most here were the refugees caught in the crosshairs of war. Once they had done what they could, they reluctantly moved towards Master Dennet’s farm. 

The East Roads was awash with the blood of half-crazed templars and mages alike. Amicia had never seen the likes of it before. Even Cassandra seemed perturbed by the violence.

The fighting had scared off the game, even now she could hear the raging of battle off in the distance. Her stomach grumbled in protest. She turned to look at her sleeping companions with envy. Solas actually looked quite comfortable. The elf could sleep anywhere. He even seemed more excited to sleep than to discover more of the Hinterlands. He was such a strange character, enjoying the fade, traveling there frequently, and conversing with spirits. She had never met an elf or mage of the like to Solas. 

She fiddled with her talisman hanging around her neck. Carefully avoiding the bandaged burn just beneath it. It had burned into her skin while she was in the fade at the conclave. She never liked the fade and kept the talisman to keep her from it. It was probably the reason she did not remember what had happened. Looking at the mysterious green mark on her hand she fell into an uneasy sleep. 

In the Circle, she had never killed, when she was free amongst the rebel mages she only sought to maim Templars that came for them. She was familiar with death. But, today, she lost count of the bodies that they had cut through. 

Her eyes stung. She bit her lip to silence herself, they wouldn’t listen. She had begged them to listen, one mage couldn’t have been more than a couple of years younger than herself. She had looked so similar to Tephenia … It’s strange, to be so surrounded by death at the conclave yet this is what sets off her memories of that night. 

A hand tapped her shoulder firmly, “Amicia,” the Seeker whispered, “I need to relieve myself, wake up.” Amicia froze, trying to breathe away the tears still caught in her throat. 

“Al-alright,” she choked. 

An awkward silence filled the air as she sat up reaching for her staff to light their way, “Let’s go.” she said more firmly, hoping the Seeker couldn’t see her face in the dim light. The Seeker followed her further into the forest. 

It was a tense and awkward affair, she stood guard waiting for the Seeker to emerge from the bush they had chosen. When Cassandra is done they begin their walk back only for the Seeker to stop in front of Amicia.

“Seeker?” 

“You … Why were you crying?” Cassandra demanded in a tone that reminded Amicia of their first meeting. Cassandra must’ve noticed it too, she backtracked, “I mean to ask if you are alright…” She blundered.

Amicia’s heart raced. She tried to find a suitable excuse for her tears only to find the truth escaping her lips, “I have never killed anyone before today,” she confessed silently adding, at least not on purpose. 

As silence created a space between them Amicia found herself scrambling to fill it with an explanation, “The Circle… you see because we weren’t… I never imagined having to defend my life in such a manner unless the Templars…” She took a breath collecting her thoughts, “They remind me of those I care for and cared for at the Circle, these mages.” Cassandra stared at her, unyieldingly. Amicia shifted nervously under the Seeker’s gaze.

Cassandra nodded and began to intone The Chant, “ ‘Here lies the abyss, the well of all souls. From these emerald waters doth life begin anew. Come to me, child, and I shall embrace you. In my arms lies Eternity.’ They are at the side of the Maker now, and their worldly pains are gone, ours continue Amicia… We can only continue the path that marches forward, such is the Maker’s will.” 

Amicia wanted to agree, but she cannot help but see Tephenia ’s eyes pleading with her in all the eyes she set dull the next day. No Maker can exist in love and demand such violence she thought. 

* * *

Amicia sighed, the wind was soft in the small valley of Horse Master Dennet’s farm. The sweet smell of the small lake was calming, more than any sleeping draught she had ever tried. She wanted to stay here forever. But, there are demonic wolves to hunt down, and watchtower sites to scout. Not to mention the Breach looming in the sky.

Amicia laid near the other side of the lake. Bees buzzed about to the wildflowers. The tall grass hiding her from the chaos of the Inquisition and Cassandra ordering the scouts about, they were creating a permanent camp here. She closed her eyes only to open them at the sound of someone approaching her.

Dennet stood above her. “You can have the horses once those towers are up, as promised”

Amicia looked up at him refusing to give away her position. 

“Have you thought about coming back with us? To Haven?”

The old man looked to the Breach. It’s farther away here. If it weren’t for the excess of demons and green light emitting from the sky. It could be easy to ignore it. Live here and pretend it didn’t exist. Amicia clutched her marked hand imagining having that choice, and not taking it. She couldn’t.

“Wouldn’t blame you for staying, it is beautiful here.” She added, sitting up. 

“No, I will be coming. I’ve said my goodbyes. My daughter will need this land to be here as she gets old one day.” Dennet's eyes crinkled at the ends as he gently smiled looking off to the stables, where Seanna most definitely is. Amicia followed his gaze and nodded. Her heart ached though she couldn’t tell who it ached for. Maybe for all of them. 

She wondered softly if her father thought of her while she wasted away in the Circle towers. If he ever wanted a better world, where his daughter was able to one day grow old in their family home. A wave of homesickness and jealousy coddled her heart like an old friend. She laid back down in the grass soaking in the warm sun she knew she would desperately miss in Haven. 

* * *

It had been a long trek back. They winded through the forest, the trail narrowed and they had to trek up in a single file line. Amica took the back. Solas rode up ahead. For a long while, only the snow and the horses made any sound. It was so quiet, and peaceful. If Amicia didn’t know better she could have sworn Solas was not actually fully awake atop his mount. Varric murmured ahead, just out of earshot. A story, no doubt. 

“I think I would like to live in the Hinterlands.” She told Varric as the trail grew wider and they were able to ride side by side.

“It’s the civil warfare and the egregious wildlife isn’t it?” Varric sighed dramatically, “I told you, Cassandra, we would lose our dear little Amicia to the charms of the Hinterlands.”

Cassandra scoffed. Whether in disgust or in exasperation of Varric’s antics, is anyone’s guess. Probably both. 

Amicia chuckled. 

“The atrocities the Hinterland suffers is no laughing matter.” Dennet scolded loudly. Solas jolted, his horse tittered in protest. Amicia cowed. 

Varric, unperturbed continued, “You know Lucky, you get a little too comfortable in that cot of yours, say the word. The forest and its cozy charms are all yours. I’ll even throw in one of Cassandra’s training dummies for that one on one combat delightfulness.”

Amicia chuckled. “Yes, thank you, the cold hard ground was exactly what I was missing in Haven. How can I ever repay your kindness serah--”

A scout dashed out of the foliage stopping beside Amicia’s horse. 

Grabbing her and pulling her towards the ground. An arrow whistled through the air, in the space where her head had been. Amicia’s horse bucked back. And the world blurred as Amicia flew hitting her back on an old pine. Air escaped her. She gripped at the ground trying desperately to breathe. 

There was shouting and arrows whistled in the air. The cacophony of battle. 

She couldn’t breathe. Sucking in air, but unable to breathe it out. Her vision blurred with tears. She reached for her chest. It hurt. 

She patted the ground for her staff. Watching uncomprehendingly at scouts and her companions fought one another. She gasped for air, coughing. 

A scout appeared by her side. He was most definitely saying words. Hell if Amicia knew any of them. She pointed her palms pointedly at him. “Back…” She gaped and gasped air returning to her more and more with each painful second. 

“Back up. I…” She wheezed. “Will burn you.” The scout moved a few steps back, panic in his eyes. He glanced nervously at her mark. They were hidden just beyond the tree line. If anyone had been looking they would be spotted easily.

“Please serah, we need you to get out of here.” She narrowed her eyes at him, inching herself up a tree to stand. 

“My staff.” She glanced frantically at the ground. Her staff lay in the snow. It was splintered and strewn amongst the fighting. Her heart sank into her stomach. She cursed. 

“Leave it, please.” The scout begged, distressed. “I must take you to the safe house.” 

“No.” She crouched down into the shrubbery, hoping the traitorous scouts hadn’t seen them. 

The young lad beside her looked at her in disbelief but joined her nonetheless. He shifted his gaze to the forest beyond and to the path at each sound, gripping his dagger. She watched the battle before her through the foliage. 

Her heart raced, Cassandra was overrun. Three scouts surrounded her. They weaved in and out of range as she lunged at them. They were trying to circle her. To tire her out and overwhelm her. But there were only four of them. 

Solas flipped his staff around maiming one of the scouts as they tried to get behind Cassandra. Amicia watched entranced. Varric and Solas hid behind a giant rock, their cover as they tried to help the overwhelmed Seeker.

The scouts were Inquisition, but there was no doubt this intentional. Everyone knew her face, and most certainly knew Cassandra’s.  She watched helplessly and looked around for something, anything to help.

Her eyes landed on the nervous and sweaty scout before her. Amicia’s head raced.

“Are you with them?” She questioned, glancing nervously at the dagger the scout held. 

“Huh?” The scout drew his attention from the fighting. “No. Reinforcements are on the way Herald.” He shifted his eyes again to the woods. 

“Go help them.” Amicia ordered.

“No, it is my duty to protect the Herald. Please, there is a safe house not far, let me take you.” 

"I'm not leaving!" She exclaimed.

Amicia gritted her teeth in frustration. They were outnumbered and tiring. She couldn’t do anything, not without losing control, not without her staff. She bit her lip.

She had to do something. Frantically she looked around. She couldn’t just hide here, she wouldn’t.

Cassandra cried out in frustration as one scout danced away from her blade. Another moved quickly toward Cassandra. 

Amicia held in a scream. An arrow, Varric’s last arrow, flew through the air and struck the advancing scout. 

She continued to scan the ground until she saw it. A stick. It was the thickness of her arm and just as long. Gripping its end she pointed it towards the nearest traitor. 

“What are you doing?!” The scout beside her cried in alarm. She wasn’t sure. 

She focused, coaxing the wood to listen to her internal incantation. 

Fire, blue and hot raged through the stick, its body cracking and burning. A ball of flame hit one of the traitors in the back. He screamed as fire engulfed his body. Everyone paused, and for a split second, no one moved. His charred remains crumbling before their very eyes. The scouts turn and ran into the woods, disappearing into the foliage.

“That was extremely dangerous.” Cassandra deadpanned, panting into the cold air. Her lips slightly upturning in an alleviated smile. Amicia sagged in relief, dropping her charred makeshift staff. It hissed angrily in the snow. She laughed, relief flooding her body and escaping her lips. 

The young scout put away his dagger and started to climb a tree. “I must follow them.” He explained offhandedly to her. She waved him off dismissively. 

She cursed, looking at her poor staff. It is splintered off and smoldering at one end. The craftsmanship was poor for sure, but it was the first staff she had ever bought on her own. She frowned, mourning it. At least her amulet remained unharmed, she thought, grateful for the small red rock on its golden chain. 

She gathered the carnelian amulet that hung from what is left of the top end of the staff. She put it on and turned towards her companions hiding it in the folds of her shirt. Sharing a look of horror at the two dead scouts before them they began to gather their wits. Traitors were in their midst. 

Varric trudged up to her side. “Alright?” 

She nodded, she could make it back to Haven. Even if now they had to walk. The horses had all been spooked. All except for Master Dennet’s old warhorse, who remained unphased besides them. 

* * *

Some of the guards met them halfway back and among them Cullen. Some of the men gave up their horses for the trek back. 

Cullen rode beside her taking his place in the strategic diamond they had formed around her. Cassandra taking the lead, Solas on her left. Varric behind her. Everyone, wearily watching the forest. 

“You’re not in Haven?” Cassandra asked Cullen in professional displeasure. 

“I left Leliana and Josephine. Besides, none of this matters if she dies.” He clipped back. 

“She is right here you know,” Amicia said pointedly at the ex-templar and the Seeker. He glanced at her. Cassandra murmured something, but it was lost to the wind. She didn’t like Cullen. From the gate of his walk to the words that spilled from his mouth, he exuded templar. It put her on edge. 

“Are you hurt?” He asked, as though checking off a box on a list rather than any true concern. Duty first, the templar way. She scowled. Somehow she preferred the crazed sort of templar, least they were honest, albeit murderous. 

“I will live.” She answers back. His nose wrinkles. He doesn’t seem to like that answer but doesn’t question her further like she has passed some sort of test. She shuddered, remembering circle inspection days. 

Cassandra begins speaking to Cullen, briskly debriefing him on the scouts who had attacked them. Their frowns grow at each trade-off of information. Leliana knew of the attack, but not who was behind it, Cassandra thought someone’s spies were behind it, Cullen predictably blamed the rebel mages. 

Amicia rolled her eyes. She had to interrupt, “Commander, the templars have more resources and more to gain if the Inquisition fails. Besides they were clearly trained.”

Cullen sputtered, “Templars do not spy, we merely have deep cover agents for--” 

“This is not the place to discuss this,” Cassandra cut Cullen off. 

From what Amicia could already tell, the war room meeting waiting for them would belong. She groaned internally, exhaustion wearing at her. The landmarks grew more and more familiar as they reached the first gates of Haven

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments are welcomed!   
> I hope to post again sometime at the beginning of next week :)

**Author's Note:**

> Living in time is sort of strange.  
> It's like existing and then dates and deadlines come up and you're trying to fish them out of the pond of time only to find yourself six fish too late.
> 
> Ok, here's the deal if I can fish next Monday out of this pond of time that we live in I will update this :).


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